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TALES from 
WONDERLAND 


By RUDOLPH BAUMBACH 

Translated by HELEN B. DOLE 

Adapted for American Children by 
WILLIAM S. M. SILBER 

My gallant courser swift and good 

Through story-land conveys me ; 

The mystic lady of the wood 

With runic staff delays me ; 

The water-nissie sings her lays 

Beside the fairy fountain : 

The golden-antlered white stag plays 

In sunlight on the mountain , 

) j > 

IRew IPorh, * * 1903 

a. Xovell & Company 





Co^ 



Uy transr 


*<v 




Copyright, 1903, 

By A. Lovell & Company. 


Tales from Wonderland. 


PREFACE. 


Wonderland is the region of the Thu- 
ringian forest of central Germany, near which 
Rudolph Baumbach has lived all his life. He 
has made a “ wonderland ” that is peculiarly 
his own, and has depicted the aspects of 
nature and the characteristics of real folk and 
wood folk with a simplicity of treatment that 
suggests Hans . Andersen, and a grace, deli- 
cacy and humor that rival Heine. 

The stories in this little book have been 
taken from a volume in the famous “ Came- 
lot Series” entitled Tales from Wonderland, 
translated by Helen B. Dole. It in turn 
includes selections from two little books in 
prose entitled, Sommer Marchen and Erzah- 
lungen und Marchen , which have had a very 
large sale in Germany. 

Rudolph Baumbach is an author of wide 
celebrity in Germany, and he has written 
novels and poems as well as shorter stories. 


IV 


PREFACE. 


He is chiefly known in the United States 
through the use of his delightful stories in the 
original for collateral reading in secondary 
schools. 

Believing that these stories deserve a wider 
circulation in our own vernacular, the Editor 
has ventured to adapt them for American 
children, particularly those familiar with the 
vocabulary of a third reader. 

The stories are remarkable for their grace 
and simplicity of manner. They appeal vividly 
to the imagination of young readers, and at 
the same time disclose a familiarity with nature 
that inspires a healthful love for outdoor life 
in the field and forest. 

Many changes have been necessary in mak- 
ing the adaptations, but the Editor trusts that 
the stories have lost none of their charm in 
the process. 

The Editor desires to thank the friends 
who have aided him during the progress of 
the book through the press. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

The Magic Bow . . . i 

The Christmas Rose . . . 15 

The Clover Leaf . . . 27 

The Adder Queen . . . 50 

The Water of Forgetfulness . 69 

The Witching-Stone . . .86 

The Donkey’s Spring . . . 102 

The Easter Rabbit . . .114 






THE flAGIC BOW. 


There was once a little boy whose name 
was Frieder, who had neither father nor 
mother. He was as handsome as a picture, 
and when he was playing in front of the house 
in the street, people would stop and ask, 
“ Whose little one is that ? ” 

Then the surly old woman who brought him 
up on thin broth and many scoldings would 
say, “ He is nobody’s child ; it would be best 
for him if he were to die.” 

But Frieder did not wish to die. He was a 
very healthy boy, and he soon grew up to be 
stout and strong like the red-headed thistles 
behind his foster-mother’s house. 

The poor boy had no one to play with. 


2 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


When the other boys in the village built mills 
and sailed their little canoes in the brook, or 
romped in the hay, Frieder would sit on the 
hillside and whistle the songs of the birds. 

He was doing this one day, when old Klaus, 
the bird-catcher, met him. He took a fancy 
to the pretty lad, and they soon became great 
friends. From that time the two were often 
seen sitting in front of the bird-catcher’s cot- 
tage, talking together like two old soldiers. 

Klaus could not only tell strange stories of 
the forest, but he knew how to play the fiddle. 
He gave Frieder an old patched up violin as a 
birthday present, and taught him how to play 
upon it. Frieder learned rapidly, and before 
the end of the month he could play several fa- 
mous old songs and airs. 

The old bird-catcher was much pleased with 
his pupil’s skill, and told Frieder that he ex- 
pected to see him play the first violin in the 
village band before he died. 

When Frieder was fifteen years old, the 


THE MAGIC BOW. 


3 


neighbors had a village meeting, and talked 
about what they should do with him. It was 
time, they said, that he should learn some trade 
so as to earn a living ; and when they asked 
him what he would like to become, he an- 
swered, “ A musician.” 

Then the people threw up their hands in 
horror. But a stout man stepped out of the 
crowd, grasped the lad’s hand and said in a 
kind manner, “ I will see whether I can make 
something practical out of him.” All those 
who stood about in the circle thought Frieder 
very lucky to have found such a master. 

He was one of the great men of the village. 
He cut the people’s hair and beards, and 
pulled out their poor teeth, and often their 
sound ones, too. He was something of a 
doctor, also, and the people called him “ Herr 
Doctor.” 

Frieder went the same day to the barber’s 
house, and began at once to make himself use- 
ful. He soon learned to make the lather, to 


4 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


hone the razors, and to do everything else that 
a barber should know how to do. 

His master was pleased with him, but 
Frieder did not have many chances to play 
his violin because the barber did not like 
music, and thought that any one who was fond 
of it spent too much time on a thing that would 
not bring him in any money. 

Two long years passed by. Then came the 
day when Frieder was to put what he had 
learned to the test. If he should succeed in 
satisfying his master, he could then go out into 
the world as a traveling barber and seek his 
fortune. He was to prove his skill by shav- 
ing his master’s beard, and that was no easy 
task. 

On the day of Frieder’s trial the barber 
seated himself in his chair, put the white 
towel around his neck, and leaned his head 
back. Frieder then soaped his double chin, 
stropped the razor, and began to work. 

Suddenly the sound of violins and flutes was 


THE MAGIC BOW. 5 

heard. A band of musicians and a man lead- 
ing a bear had come up the street, and had 
stopped in front of the house. As soon as 
the young barber heard the music, his hand 
slipped and the razor made a bloody cut on his 
master’s cheek. 

Alas for poor Frieder! The barber was so 
vexed at the accident that he upset the chair 
in which he was sitting, and fell backwards on 
the floor. The bleeding man jumped up in a 
rage and gave Frieder a rousing box on the 
ear. Then he pulled open the door, pointed 
into the blue air, and screamed, “ Go to the 
cuckoo ! ” 

Frieder packed up his things, took his 
violin under his arm, and went to the cuckoo. 
The cuckoo dwelt in an oak tree in the woods, 
and happened to be at home when Frieder 
called on him. He patiently heard the poor 
fellow’s account to the end, but then he 
flapped his wings, and said : — 

“ Young friend, if I should help all who are 


6 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


sent to me, I would have a great deal to do. 
The times are hard, and I must be glad that I 
have taken care of my own children fairly 
well. The oldest I have boarded out in a 
water-wagtail’s family ; the second one, neigh- 
bor redtail has taken into his house ; the third 
child, a little maid, is nursed by an old robin ; 
and the two smallest ones are taken care of 
by a wren. 

“ I have to keep going myself from morning 
till night in order to get enough to live on 
decently,” continued the cuckoo. “ For four- 
teen days I have lived on hairy caterpillars, 
and such food would not suit you. No ; I 
cannot help you, however sorry I may be for 
you.” 

Frieder felt very sorry, too, but he said 
good-by to the cuckoo, and went away. He 
had not gone far when the cuckoo called after 
him, “ Wait, Frieder ! I have a good idea. 
Perhaps I can help you after all. Come with 
me.” Then he stretched his wings, and flew 


THE MAGIC BOW. 7 

along in front of Frieder to show him the 
way. 

Frieder had much trouble in following the 
cuckoo. The trees were very close together, 
and the spaces between them were thickly 
filled with brier bushes that pricked him se- 
verely as he pushed his way through. At 
last it grew light between the trees, and there 
was a glimpse of water. 

“ This is the place,” said the cuckoo, as he 
lighted on an alder tree. In front of Frieder 
was a dark green pond, into which fell a foam- 
ing waterfall. Reeds and iris grew on the 
shore, and white water-lilies, with broad leaves, 
floated on the surface. 

“ Now pay attention,” said the wise biid. 
“ When the sun goes down and makes the 
spray of the waterfall show seven colors, Neck 
comes up from the bottom of the pond, where 
he has a crystal castle, and sits down on the 
shore. Speak to him then, and do not be 
afraid. You will find out the rest.” 


8 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


Then Frieder thanked the cuckoo, who flew 
away swiftly into the woods. 

When the seven colors of the rainbow were 
seen in the waterfall, N eck came up sure enough 
out of the water. He wore a little red coat 
and a white collar. His hair was green, and 
hung down like a tangled mane over his 
shoulders. 

He sat down on a stone which rose above 
the mirror-like pond, let his feet hang in the 
water, and began to comb his hair with his ten 
fingers. This was a hard task, for the snarls 
were full of eel-grass, duckweed, and little 
snail-shells, and Neck made very wry faces as 
he tried to smooth out his hair. 

“ This is the right time to speak to him,” 
thought Frieder, so he took courage, stepped 
out from the alder bushes, which had kept him 
from sight, took off his hat, and said, “ Good 
evening, Herr Neck ! ” 

At the sound of his voice, Neck plumped 
into the water like a startled frog, and was 


THE MAGIC BOW. 


9 


gone. But before long he put his head out 
again, and said in a harsh voice, “ What do 
you want ? ” 

“ By your leave, Herr Neck,” said Frieder, 
“ I am a barber who knows his trade thoroughly, 
and you will confer a great honor upon me if 
you will allow me to comb your hair.” 

“Indeed!” said Neck, delighted, and he 
came out of the water. “You have come just 
at the right time. What a trouble and tor- 
ment my hair has been to me since the Lorelei, 
my cousin, was mean enough to leave me ! 
What have I not done for that thankless 
creature ! ” 

“ One morning,” continued Neck, “ she 
went away with my golden comb, and now she 
sits, as I hear, on a rock in the Rhine, and is 
having some trouble with a skipper in a little 
skiff. She will soon sing the golden comb 
away.” 

With these words Neck sat down on a 
stone. Frieder took out his shaving case, tied 


IO 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


a white apron around the water-sprite’s neck, 
and combed and oiled his hair till it was as 
smooth as silk. Then he parted his hair evenly * 
from his brow to the nape of his neck, took off 
the apron, and made a bow, as his master had 
taught him. Neck stood up and looked at 
himself in the mirror of the pond, and was 
very much pleased. “ What do I owe you ? ” 
he asked. 

Frieder had the usual answer, “ Whatever 
you please,” on his lips, but just then he 
remembered that now was the time to strike 
while the iron was hot, and ask for the favor 
that he wanted. So he cleared his throat and 
told Neck his history. 

“So you would like to be a musician?” 
asked Neck, when Frieder had finished speak- 
ing. “Just take your fiddle in your hand and 
let me hear something of your skill.” 

Then Frieder took his violin, tuned the 
strings, and played his best piece, and when 
he had ended with a graceful flourish, he looked 


THE MAGIC BOW. 


n 


at Neck, hoping he would think well of what 
he had done. 

Neck grinned, and said, “Now hear me.” 
Then he put his hands down into the reeds 
and brought out a violin and bow, straightened 
himself up, and began to play. 

Poor Friederhad never heard anything like 
it before. At first it sounded like the even- 
ing breeze playing among the rushes, then it 
sounded like the roar of a waterfall, and at 
last like gently flowing water. The birds in 
the trees were silent, the bees stopped hum- 
ming, and the fishes raised their heads out of 
the pond to listen to the sweet sounds. But 
great tears stood in Frieder’s eyes. 

“ Herr Neck,” he said, stretching out his 
hands as the water-sprite laid down his bow, 
“ Herr Neck, teach me how to play !” 

* That would not do,” answered Neck. “It 
would not do on account of my growing 
daughters, the nixies. Besides, it is not 
necessary. If you will give me your comb, 


12 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


you shall have a violin that has not its 
equal.” 

“ I will give you my whole shaving case, if 
you want it,” cried Frieder, and he handed it 
to the water-sprite. 

Neck snatched the case quickly, and went 
suddenly beneath the water. 

“Hold on, hold on!” Frieder called after 
him, but his call was in vain. He waited an 
hour; he waited two; but nothing more was 
heard of Neck. 

Poor Frieder sighed deeply, for it was plain 
to him that the false water-sprite had deceived 
him, and with a heavy heart he turned to go 
he knew not where. Just then he saw Neck’s 
fiddle lying at his feet on the edge of the 
pond. He stooped down, and as he took it in 
his hand, he felt a twitching from the tips of 
his fingers to his shoulder blade which urged 
him to try the bow. 

He was going to play “What shall I, poor 
fellow, do ?” but it seemed as if an unseen 


THE MAGIC BOW. 


1.3 


power guided his hand. Sweet, silvery tones 
such as Frieder had never heard but once in 
his life, and that was when Neck was playing 
to him, burst from his violin. The birds came 
flying along and sat listening in the bushes, 
the fishes leaped up out of the water, and the 
deer came out of the forest and looked with 
wise eyes at the player. 

Frieder could not tell how it happened. 
Whatever passed through his soul and what- 
ever he felt in his heart found its way to his 
hand, and through his hand to his playing, and 
made itself heard in sweet tones. 

At last Neck came up out of the pond and 
nodded approval. Then he went under the 
water and was never seen again. 

Frieder left off being a barber, and spent 
all his time on music. He became so famous 
that all the kings and emperors of Europe 
invited him to visit their courts and play 
before them. 

They poured streams of yellow gold into his 


14 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

hands, and he would have become a very rich 
man if he had not been a true musician. But 
true musicians never become rich. They 
spend their whole time on their art, and there- 
fore have no time in which to make money. 


THE CHRISTMAS ROSE. 


A STORY FOR CHRISTMAS EVE. 


Do you know the Christmas rose ? It never 
grows in flat countries, but among the moun- 
tains it is known to every child. In some 
places it is called the snow rose, and it is also 
known as the Christmas rose because it blooms 
about Yule-tide. 

Its open calyx is about as large as the hun- 
dred-leaved rose, and is snow-white, but it is 
sometimes tinted with a delicate red, like a 
mountain snow-field at sunset. One not know- 
ing the country where the flower grows nat- 
urally, would think it a plant of some far-off 
land because it is so wonderfully beautiful. 

The Christmas rose has a history of its 


1 6 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

own, and whoever would know how it came to 
have that name must pay attention to my 
story. 

In a beautiful valley in southern Germany 
is a farm which lies on the banks of one of 
those roaring, rushing rivers that rise in the 
mountains that form the Austrian boundary. 

It was Christmas time, many, many years 
ago, and it was even more lonely and silent 
in the valley than usual. This was because 
all the men who could carry sword and lance, 
had gone to the wars across the mountains, 
with the count to whom the castle and land 
belonged. 

The farmer who lived on this farm was 
one of the count’s people, and he, also, had 
been obliged to leave his home. He was 
always ready for battle, but this time it was 
very hard for him to go, for he had to leave 
behind him a young wife and a little three- 
year-old girl. 

The Christmas festival was at hand. The 


THE CHRISTMAS ROSE. I 7 

fire was crackling on the hearth in the large 
room of the farm-house, and busy maids in 
linen aprons were mixing and kneading the 
dough for the holiday sweet cakes. 

Frau Gretchen, the mistress of the house- 
hold, was not present. She was sitting with a 
heart heavy with anxiety by the bed of her 
child, who was tossing restlessly about, her 
little head burning with fever. 

On the other side of the sick bed stood the 
doctor, a man with a shining bald head and 
gray beard, who was supposed to know all 
about the art of healing. He looked at the 
sick child, shook his head, and began to mix a 
drink from the medicines he had brought with 
him. 

Heavy footsteps were heard outside in the 
hall, and an old man, wearing a coat of coarse 
cloth, entered the sick-room. He carried his 
hat in his left hand, and in his right, he held a 
lamb carved out of wood. The man was the 
shepherd of the farm. 


IS TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

He looked crossly at the doctor, and then 
stepped up to the little bed, and gave the lamb 
to the child. He had made two coal-black 
eyes for it with pine soot, and a red mouth 
with the juice of berries ; but the child did not 
notice the plaything. 

The mother sighed, and the shepherd left 
the room as quietly as he could. The doctor 
gave the medicine to the child, spoke some 
words of comfort, and went out. The mother 
and child were then alone together. 

The physician’s remedy seemed to do good 
to the feverish little girl. She fell into a deep 
sleep, which lasted all day. But as the sun 
was going down, the child grew restless again. 
Her forehead burned like fire, and she spoke 
words that no one could understand. 

All of a sudden the little one lifted herself 
from her pillow, and said, “ See, mother, see 
the beautiful lady and all the little children, 
and the lady gives me roses, white roses!” 
Then she fell back again, and closed her eyes. 


THE CHRISTMAS ROSE. 


l 9 


But Frau Gretchen knelt down, sobbing softly, 
and saying, “The child has seen the angels of 
heaven, and she must die.” 

The mother did not long give way to her 
distress. She hastened to the door, and called 
the servants to send a messenger for the doc- 
tor. 

But both men-servants and maids had all 
gone to the village church to hear the Christ- 
mas music, and only one old lame woman had 
been left behind to tend the kitchen fire. 
Frau Gretchen commanded her to put out the 
fire, and stay by the child. She then wrapped 
her cloak about her, and went in all haste to 
the doctor s house. 

The sun had already set, but the mountain 
tops still gleamed with a reddish light, and in 
the valley the twilight had spread a gray mist 
over the fields covered with snow. No living 
creature was to be seen, except two rooks, 
flying towards the forest, slowly flapping 
their wings. 


20 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


In the far distance a light flickered through 
the mist. It came from the lighted windows 
of the village church, which was near where 
the doctor lived, and the mother, with her 
heart full of anguish, hastened over the creak- 
ing snow in that direction. 

Suddenly her feet stopped and her breath 
failed her. Out of the forest came a long pro- 
cession of slight, dim and misty forms, led by 
a beautiful, tall, serious lady, in a broad full 
cloak. Behind her tripped a crowd of little 
children with pale faces, dressed in white. 

The trembling mother hid herself behind 
the trunk of a tree, and let the procession pass 
by. At the very end came a child who could 
hardly follow the others, for she was con- 
stantly stepping on her dress, which was too 
full and dragged on the ground. 

Then Frau Gretchen forgot her distress, 
and overcame her fear. She stepped toward 
the child, and tucked up her little frock so that 
she could keep pace with the other children. 


THE CHRISTMAS ROSE. 


2 I 

The beautiful, pale lady saw this kind act, 
and she turned her face toward the mother, 
smiled at her, and pointed with her forefinger 
to the ground at her feet. 

At this moment the church bells sounded 
loud and clear through the air, the procession 
disappeared like mist blown away by the wind, 
and Frau Gretchen stood alone in the twilight 
in the snow covered field. 

With timid steps she went towards the spot 
to which the lady had pointed, and her heart 
leaped for joy. She found a bush growing 
out of the ice covered earth, bearing green 
leaves and white roses. 

“ Those are the roses my child saw in her 
dream!” exclaimed Frau Gretchen. Then 
she plucked three of the blossoms, and hurried 
back as fast as she could go to the farm-house. 

She found the maid and the old shepherd 
by the sick bed. He did not think much of 
the skill of doctors, and he had therefore made 
a drink out of goat’s gall and juniper berries, 


22 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


and had given it to the sick little girl while 
her mother was away. 

Frau Gretchen stepped up to the bed, laid 
the three roses on the spread, and watched to 
see what the child would do. She seized the 
flowers with her trembling little hands, held 
them to her face, and sneezed loud and strong. 

“ God bless her ! ” cried mother, shepherd, 
and maid. Then the child asked for a drink, 
turned her head on one side, and fell asleep. 

“ Now the fever is broken,” said the shep- 
herd. “ My drink and the sneeze have saved 
the child. But where did you get those roses, 
Frau ? ” 

Frau Gretchen quietly told the old man 
what she had seen in the field. 

“That was none other than Frau Berkta 
with her little crickets,” said the shepherd. 
“ She wanders about every evening from 
Christmas till Twelfth Night, and my father 
has seen them, too. She lives up in the 
mountains three miles away, and only shows 


THE CHRISTMAS ROSE. 23 

herself during those twelve nights when she 
blesses the land and the farmer’s people. 

“ It was lucky for you, Frau Gretchen, that 
you helped the cricket,” continued the shep- 
herd. “ Frau Berkta is a gentle lady, and re- 
wards every service that has been given to her.” 
And then the old shepherd told what he knew 
about Frau Berkta, and he would have talked 
on till morning, if Frau Gretchen had not 
brought him out of the sick-room with kind 
words. 

Once more she was sitting alone by her 
child’s bed. The little one held the three 
roses in her closed hand and she breathed 
peacefully and easily. Only once she mur- 
mured in her sleep, and that was when the 
sound of the organ and the Christmas songs 
was faintly heard from the church. 

When the doctor came the next day to see 
the sick child, she was sitting up in bed and 
playing with the lamb which the shepherd had 
carved for her. 


24 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

“ Frau Gretchen,” said the delighted physi- 
cian, “ the fever has left your little girl. But 
it was a costly drink that I made for the 
child, and I hope you will not forget to give 
me a handsome reward.” 

Then Frau Gretchen drew the doctor to 
one side and told him what had happened to 
her on Christmas Eve. 

The doctor knit his brows. “You were 
dreaming,” he said, “ or else the snow blinded 
your eyes. Take good care that none of your 
idle talk comes to the ears of the people, for 
they may think you have been making a 
bargain with the wicked fairies, and they may 
make trouble for you while your husband is 
away.” 

But when Frau Gretchen showed him the 
marvelous roses, the like of which the doctor 
had never seen before, he grew thoughtful, and 
after a while he said : — 

“Woman, you have been highly favored. 
You have with your bodily eyes beheld the 


THE CHRISTMAS ROSE. 


25 


blessed angels, and it was they who gave you 
the three roses, and not the dreadful, wicked 
fairy whose name no man or woman may 
bring to his lips. You may thank them for 
healing your child, and the beautiful flowers 
you found are a token of their favor and pro- 
tection. But, madame, do not forget the 
humble service I have given you.” 

Then Frau Gretchen made up a fine Christ- 
mas dinner for him, and told one of her maids 
to take it and follow after the doctor to his 
home. When the old shepherd saw what a 
load the maid was carrying, he muttered to 
himself, “ There, again, one carries away the 
thanks which belong to another ; ” and by 
“another” he meant himself. 

Frau Gretchen said nothing, but she gave 
the shepherd a handsome present. 

The flower which grew up in the footprints 
of the angels — or was it, after all, Frau Berkta ? 
— bore seeds and grew in greater numbers 
every year. The wonderful cure of Frau 


26 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

Gretchen’s little daughter made the people 
acquainted with its healing powers, and the 
demand for it soon became so great that 
there were not enough flowers for all who 
were sick. 

Then some wise man made a powerful 
medicine from the roots of the plant itself, 
and this continued to make the cures begun 
by the flowers. This medicine is a deadly 
poison if used carelessly, but it works remark- 
able cures when given under the proper care. 

Now I know you will all be sorry to hear 
that the medicine that is made from the 
Christmas rose is not prescribed now-a-days by 
the physicians, because I think you have been 
interested in reading what the flowers did for 
the little girl, and that you would like to try 
the medicine yourself, should you become sick. 
Some day, when you want to know more 
about it, ask your doctor to tell you what he 
knows about hellebore , which is the Greek 
name for the Christmas Rose. 


THE CLOVER LEAF. 


There is a pretty little village in Germany, 
whose name I shall keep a secret, which lies 
in a rough, hilly country that is thickly covered 
with forests. Many wild birds and animals 
live in these forests, and make plenty of sport 
for those who are fond of shooting and hunt- 
ing. 

Nearly all the men in the village were good 
hunters. They were very skilful in the use of 
the rifle, and, like all hunters, they were very 
fond of telling about the good shots they had 
made. Many wonderful stories of thrilling 
escapes and skilful aim in the chase after 
game were told by these men in the long 
winter days and evenings around the fire in 
the village store. 


28 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


Now all these stories had the effect of mak- 
ing some men think they were better shots 
than other men, while the others were not at 
all willing to let them think they were right. 
So, after thinking it over for a long while, it 
was decided to have a shooting match every 
year where all the men could try their skill at 
shooting. It was also agreed that the man 
who should win the match would be called 
the village champion for a whole year. 

The time that was chosen for this match 
was Midsummer Day. This comes on the 24th 
day of June, and was a famous holiday in olden 
times. The people made a festival of it 
because the days are then longer and the 
nights shorter than at any other time of the 
year, and because nearly every green thing has 
reached its largest growth. 

Another reason for choosing this day for the 
match was because it had always been kept as 
a holiday by hunters all over the world. 

Midsummer Day had come around again, 


THE CLOVER LEAF. 


2 9 


and the people of this pretty village were all 
gathered in a little park on the side of the 
mountain to watch the match that should 
decide who would be the champion for another 
year. 

The target that had been chosen was some- 
thing stuffed to look like an eagle, with two 
heads and two tails. Many and loud were the 
reports from the guns aimed at this queer 
target. The men who on week-days used 
hammer and plane, ax and awl, handled the 
firearms as skilfully as the tools of their trades, 
and looked very fine in their shooting-jackets. 

Among the women who were present at the 
club-house, watching the skill of the men, was 
a slender young maiden, who was very pretty 
and well dressed. Her dark gown was of fine 
cloth, and the buttons on her waist were of 
solid silver. Her long yellow hair hung down 
her back from under a black silk cap which had 
a gold buckle on it that would have been 
cheap at twenty dollars. 


30 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

The city damsels did not like the way the 
young fellows crowded about the table where 
the maiden sat, and turned up their little noses 
at the country girl, and the want of taste in the 
young men. 

But the city young men could not get next to 
the maiden because she was sitting between the 
king’s forester, a man with a sunburnt face and 
iron-gray beard, and a wild looking huntsman’s 
lad. The seats near-by were all taken by 
huntsmen, so the beautiful girl was well pro- 
tected. 

The old man next to her was her father, 
but the young hunter on the other side of her 
was her father’s helper. He had made the 
best shots of the day, and the city fellows en- 
vied him his good luck in the match, and his 
seat next to the beautiful Margaret. 

But she did not seem to be pleased by the 
nearness of the young fellow. She answered 
his questions very shortly, and when he tried 
to sit nearer, she gathered her dress together 


THE CLOVER LEAF. 


31 


as though she were afraid of being touched 
by the wild youth. 

It was now another person’s turn to shoot, 
so the herald called out: “Forester Henner, 
make ready ! ” Margaret’s father rose from 
his seat to take his chance in shooting at the 
bird, and his helper followed at the old man’s 
heels. 

Nothing was now left of the noble eagle but 
his tail. But whoever should shoot this down 
from the pole would win the match, and be 
champion for a year. 

The forester took aim, and shot. The peo- 
ple saw how the eagle’s tail shook and bent 
forward, but it did not fall to the ground. 
The applause which some had already made 
stopped at once, and the forester threw his 
gun angrily on the ground. 

Now came the turn of the forester’s helper, 
whose name was Rudolph. He raised his gun 
and moved his lips in a whisper. Then some- 
thing very strange happened. The eagle’s 


32 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

tail, as though it afterwards thought better of 
it, loosed itself from the pole and fell to the 
ground like an overripe apple from a tree. 
The hunter’s gun went off too late, and the 
bullet whistled through the empty air. 

Everybody was pleased at the young fellow’s 
bad luck, for Rudolph was one whom nobody 
liked or wished well. But he did not seem to 
take his bad luck much to heart. Indeed, he 
was the first to salute old Henner as cham- 
pion. 

The forester’s face beamed with joy as the 
chain with the medal was hung around his 
neck, and he was named champion. He 
bowed his thanks on all sides, and then they 
formed a procession and showed him to the 
crowd. 

The drummers and buglers marched ahead, 
and then came the flag-bearer, who, as the 
custom was, went dancing along in a very 
wonderful manner. After them came the 
champion with the heralds, and behind him 


THE CLOVER LEAF. 33 

marched the prize winners, one of the first of 
whom was Rudolph. 

Then came the scorers with the pieces of the 
eagle that had been the target, and last of all 
the other members of the club. The proces- 
sion moved in a circle around the park, and 
then turned back into the club-house, where 
the champion’s supper was to end the festival. 

As soon as they reached there, the cham- 
pion went up to his helper, seized him by the 
hand, and said loud enough to be heard by 
everybody : “ Rudolph, I am both glad and 
sorry for what has happened. This honor has 
not come to you, but you are still the better 
shot of us two. Yes, dear friends,” said he, 
turning to the others, “ there is not one among 
you who can outdo him.” 

But this did not please the other huntsmen, 
and they said so in low voices among them- 
selves. Rudolph heard them, and cast his 
eyes over the crowd and screwed up his 
mouth. Then he looked up where, high 


34 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

in the air, the chimney-swallows were flying 
hither and thither. 

“Who among you,” he asked, “can bring 
down two swallows with one bullet?” 

All the huntsmen were silent. 

But Rudolph raised his gun, took aim for a 
moment, then fired, and two dead swallows 
fell to the ground. 

“Did you see that?” cried old Henner. 
“ No, nobody can equal that.” 

The men were silent, and many looked side- 
ways at Rudolph, who, they thought, had 
made such a good shot through some unfair 
means. But he stood there as though the 
shot were an every-day matter. Then the old 
forester took him by the arm, led him to the 
table, and bade him sit by his daughter. 

Those who had not been invited to sit at 
the club table did so in a cottage in the park. 
The talk there was all about the wonderful 
shot which Rudolph had aimed at the 
swallows. 


THE CLOVER LEAF. 


35 


“ Did you hear what he whispered before he 
shot at the tail on the pole?” asked the herald, 
who had almost eaten his dinner. “ This is 

what he said : — 

“ * Skill brings not 
The lucky shot.’ 

I stood near-by, and I heard it. That is 
something he did not learn from us. It would 
have been an easy thing for him to shoot 
down the bird himself and become champion, 
but the sly fox lets the old man have the 
honor and wins the daughter.” 

“ And what do you think of the shot at the 
swallows ? ” one of the scorers asked the her- 
ald. 

The old man shook his gray head. He had 
been a soldier, and he knew a thing or two 
about such matters. He began to tell about 
charmed bullets, fairy spells, and the fernseed 
which makes things so that they cannot be 
seen. He also told dreadful tales about the 
Wild Huntsman, who rides through the clouds 
at night, and all kinds of ghost stories. 


36 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

This talk by the old man excited the hunts- 
men so much that all kinds of threats began 
to be made against Rudolph. It was said 
that he was the slave of the wicked fairies ; 
that he had sold himself to them, and that 
some strange power had been given to him in 
return. This, said the huntsmen, gave Ru- 
dolph an unfair advantage over them in the 
shooting match. 

Besides this they felt that he might some- 
time use this power to harm them if he should 
happen to have a grudge against any of them. 
So some thought he ought to be shot, others 
were for sending him away from the village 
for life, and one tailor wanted to mark him 
in some way so that all people should shun 
him. 

While this talk was going on outside, the 
night came on and the club-house became 
empty. But old Henner still sat talking with 
his comrades, and paid no attention to his 
daughter, who pulled at his jacket several 


THE CLOVER LEAF. 


37 


times to remind him that it was time to go 
home. 

Stories about hunting and shooting and 
about wonderful escapes from danger in the 
forests and on the mountains, were what they 
talked about and you may be sure that nothing 
was lost in the telling of them. Every man 
did his best to make his story outdo all the 
rest in daring deeds and large catches of 
game. The story that caused the most won- 
der was about the clover leaf, and is as 
follows : — 

Three hunters, who were on a journey, once 
stopped at a forest tavern. After they had 
finished dinner, they called the host to them 
and asked him if he would like to see some- 
thing which nobody had ever seen before. 
This pleased the host, and he offered them a 
free supper should it prove to be very 
strange. 

Then one of them picked a clover leaf, the 
second brought a ladder and fastened the 


38 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

clover leaf to the gable of the house, and the 
third measured off a hundred paces and 
called his friends to follow. Then the first 
one began and shot off the first leaf, the 
second hit the second, and the third the third. 
The host was more than surprised at this 
strange piece of shooting, but he gave each of 
the fellows the supper he had promised, and 
was very glad when they went away. 

“ If that is true,” said old Henner, “the fel- 
lows shot with charmed bullets.” 

And so thought the others, but Rudolph 
only laughed and said it was child’s play, and 
he agreed to do the same thing. 

“ But what if somebody else should load 
the gun ?” asked one of the men, distrustfully. 

“ I do not care who may load the gun,” 
said Rudolph, boldly ; “but he must be honest 
about it.” 

“ If you are successful,” said old Henner, 
“then, young man, I will give you whatever 
you may ask of me as a prize.” 


THE CLOVER LEAF. 


39 


“ Father ! ” said Margaret, in surprise. 

“ Whatever you may ask of me,” said the 
forester again. 

“ Well, then,” said Rudolph, slowly, “ I will 
shoot the little leaves of a clover from the 
stem, a hundred paces off, with three bullets 
and three shots, and you promise to give me 
as a prize whatever I may ask of you. Is it a 
bargain ?” 

“Don’t doit, father! don’t do it!” cried 
Margaret, in real terror. 

“You little fool ! ” said the father, laughing ; 
and the huntsman joined in the laughter. No 
one had the least doubt what the hunter would 
ask as his reward, and they took poor Marga- 
ret’s terror for a girl’s modesty. 

“ It is a bargain ! ” said old Henner, reach- 
ing out his hand, “ my word ” 

“ Wait ! ” said an old huntsman. “ Suppose 
this little affair is not successful, what shall 
the shooter pay as a forfeit ? ” 

“ Whatever you say,” said Rudolph. 


40 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

Margaret had risen from her seat and her 
face was as pale as death as she said : — 

“ Then he shall go as far as his feet can 
carry him, and never come into my sight 
again.” 

“All right, miss,” said Rudolph, biting his 
lips ; “ so shall it be. Your hand, forester ! I 
give you my word of honor.” And so the 
matter was agreed upon. 

While the old man was scolding his daugh- 
ter in a trembling voice, Rudolph left the 
club-house and went to his hut, passing by, on 
the other side of the park, the hunters who 
had been talking about him. They were lying 
in wait to punish him for his trickery in the 
match that afternoon, but they did not see 

him, and so he escaped them. 

* * * 

Old Henner’s house stood in a clearing of 
the forest at the foot of a high mountain. 
Sad at heart, he sat before the door on the 
stone seat, and the spotted bloodhound, who 


THE CLOVER LEAF. 


41 


was lying down not far away, looked up from 
time to time at his master. He would gladly 
have shown his sympathy by a dumb caress, 
but he thought it wiser not to come too near 
the cross old man. 

The forester was displeased with himself, 
but still he would not own it. He would have 
given his little finger if he could have taken 
back the bargain he had made with his helper, 
for it was clear to him now that Margaret 
could not like Rudolph. Although he tried 
to believe that dislike is often changed to love 
when people are married, still, in the bottom 
of his heart, he wished that Rudolph might 
not succeed in the clover trial. 

The forester’s helper was to try his skill on 
Midsummer Day, which was now not far off. 
Poor Margaret went about as pale as the wood 
fairy who sometimes meets the shepherds and 
charcoal-burners on moonlight nights, and 
her father hardly had the heart to look into 
her eyes, which were red with weeping. 


42 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

Now Margaret had a goat named White- 
coat, and there was no goat in all the mount- 
ains around so good and gentle, and who 
knew so much as she did. . Whitecoat saw 
very clearly that her mistress was in trouble, 
and she no longer leaped gaily about Margaret 
as she used to do when she was led to the 
meadow. Instead of going about gladly, she 
went sadly along behind her, with drooping ears. 

Midsummer eve had come. Old Henner’s 
cottage was trimmed with wreaths of ever- 
green and garlands of leaves to keep the holi- 
day and welcome the guests, but the inmates 
went about as though there had been a death 
in the house. 

Margaret had milked her goat, and now 
she was sitting on the milking-stool, with her 
hands folded in her lap, and weeping bitterly. 

“ Oh, Whitecoat,” she said, sorrowfully, “why 
should I be so wretched ? ” 

It seemed as though the goat had only been 
waiting for her to speak to her, for to Mar- 


THE CLOVER LEAF. 


43 


garet’s surprise she opened her rosy mouth 
and said : — 

“You speak to me, Margaret, at the right 
time. In the sacred Midsummer evening, 
when everything is set free and changed, we 
animals have the power of speech, and I may 
speak to you. Tell me what troubles you, 
and perhaps I can help you, for I am no com- 
mon goat.” 

“What are you, then ?” asked Margaret. 
“ Are you, perhaps, an enchanted princess ? ” 

“ No,” answered Whitecoat ; “ I am some- 
thing better than that. I come in a direct line 
from one of the goats who in olden times 
used to draw the carriage of the old man who 
lived over yonder in the mountain. But you 
know nothing about that. However, believe 
me, I am more than other common goats, and 
I am willing to help you, if it can be done.” 

“ Oh, good Whitecoat, if you only could ! ” 
And so Margaret told the goat her troubles. 

Whitecoat listened very carefully to what 


44 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


Margaret had to say, and when her story was 
over she said : — 

“You must never marry Rudolph. He fol- 
lows the bad fairies who have taught him evil 
things, and I know why. To-morrow it will 
be three years since I watched him in the for- 
est. It was about the hour of noon, over in 
yonder meadow. There he stood and spread 
out a white cloth on the ground before him, 
and just as the sun reached the highest part 
of the sky, he shot at it, and three drops of 
blood fell on the cloth. He took it up and 
hid it in his bosom, and he has never missed a 
shot since that time. 

“To-morrow,” continued Whitecoat, “he 
will hit the little clover leaves, too, even 
though he were to stand a hundred miles 
away from the mark.” 

“ You see, it is impossible to help me,” said 
Margaret, with a groan. 

“ Perhaps not,” returned Whitecoat. “ But 
it would not be the first time that evil fairy 


THE CLOVER LEAF. 


45 


spells have failed. Lead me to-morrow be- 
fore sunrise to the meadow, and perhaps I 
may find a way to help you.” 

At this moment old Henner put his head 
through the window of the stables, and called 
out in a loud, scolding voice : “ Where is the 
girl hiding ? .Gone to sleep milking, I do de- 
clare ! Come out, Margaret, and get my sup- 
per ready.” 

Margaret jumped up from the milking- 
stool, where she had fallen asleep, patted good 
Whitecoat’s head, and went to her father. 

The dream — for such it must have been — 
kept going round and round in her head. 
She arose early the next morning and led the 
goat to the meadow before daybreak. Later 
in the day, Margaret brought back Whitecoat, 
who sprang along as gaily as a young kid. 
Her father shook his gray head in surprise, for 
Margaret looked peaceful and, indeed, almost 
happy. 

The invited guests soon came, and among 


46 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

them was Rudolph. He looked about as 
though he had not a care in the world, and 
seemed sure of success. Margaret welcomed 
him just as she did the other guests, but she 
kept out of his way as much as possible. 

When the guests were all present, old Hen- 
ner stepped into their circle and renewed the 
promise which he had given to his helper at 
the shooting match, and Rudolph then said 
that he was ready at a moment’s notice to 
prove his skill. 

Old Henner looked at his daughter and 
said : — 

“ Get a clover leaf at once, and fasten it with 
wax to the barn-door.” 

A clover leaf was ready at hand, and Mar- 
garet fastened it to the door with trembling 
fingers. 

The young hunter then measured the dis- 
tance. A hundred paces had been agreed 
upon, but Rudolph felt so sure of success that 
of his own free will he made it double that 


THE CLOVER LEAF. 47 

number. This was so far away that the clover 
leaf could hardly be seen. 

Then one of the huntsmen loaded the gun 
before the eyes of the others and handed it to 
Rudolph. H e raised the gun and fired one shot, 
seeming to do so without taking aim. Then 
he let the other two shots follow just as quickly. 

“Now go and see!” he cried, sure of his 
success, and he looked with wild joy towards 
the beautiful Margaret, who stood in the dis- 
tance with quick beating heart. 

The hunters ran to the barn-door, while 
Rudolph went towards Margaret. 

When the hunters reached the barn-door 
they called out to him : “ Rudolph, you have 
lost ; one little leaf still remains on the stem. ” 

“That cannot be true,” cried he, rushing 
towards the door. But it was really so. The 
three bullets had pierced the wood one after 
another, but one leaf that had not been hit, 
still hung to the stem that was fastened to the 
barn-door. 


48 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

Rudolph’s black eyes shot fire. Then he 
raised his fist towards heaven and said such 
dreadful words that it made the cold shivers 
run down the men’s backs, and without a word, 
he strode off into the wild forest. 

The beautiful Margaret ran as fast as she 
could to her goat, and laughing and weeping 
she kissed and hugged Whitecoat, who had 
saved her. 

Now you must know that the wise White- 
coat had led Margaret that morning to a place 
where she found a four-leaved clover, and no 
fairy magic in this world could mak'e a hunter 
hit four leaves with three shots. 

So that is why Margaret did not have to 
marry the ugly lad. 

Rudolph was never seen again by the neigh- 
bors, and people soon forgot about him just 
as though the earth had swallowed him up. 
Afterward, some of the forest people said that 
they had seen - him going about with a com- 
pany of the wild huntsmen, but it is not so 
sure that they were right. 


THE CLOVER LEAF. 


49 


The marks of the three bullets may still be 
seen in the barn-door, so the story must be 
true. Indeed, when the wonderful tale was 
told me on the very spot, one of the great 
grandchildren of the wise Whitecoat was 
pointed out to me by the farmer who now 
lives in old Henner’s cottage. 


THE ADDER QUEEN. 


There was once a young shepherd who 
owned only two things besides the homely 
clothes which he wore on his back. One was 
his fife, and the other was his Bertha, a plump, 
brown little maid, with lips as red as cherries. 
The fife he himself had carved out of wood ; 
the maid he had found in the forest where 
her father burned charcoal. 

They had both agreed that some time 
they would be married. The old charcoal- 
burner had nothing against it, either, and 
they might have been married right away if 
they had had anything besides their love to 
live upon. 

But love only, be it ever so warm, will not 


THE ADDER QUEEN. 


51 


cook the supper nor heat the children’s broth. 
“ So let us wait,” thought they, and they hoped 
for better times. 

One day the beautiful Bertha was sitting 
not far from the charcoal kiln, where her 
father was busy stirring the fire. Near her 
stood her lover, Carl, while the sheep were 
wandering about in the woods, guarded by 
the dog. 

Over Bertha’s head, an old ash-tree spread 
its branches, and from them hung bunches of 
scarlet berries. She had picked a number of 
them, and was now busy stringing the single 
berries on a long thread. This made a red 
necklace like coral. 

Carl, as the young shepherd was called, 
watched Bertha as she busily moved her little 
fingers. Then as he gazed upon her rosy 
cheeks, her smooth brow and all her charms, 
one after another, he thought to himself, 
“ How lovely she is !” 

Soon the string of berries was finished, and 


52 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

as Bertha twined it around the tightly twisted 
braids of her dark brown hair, she smiled at 
her lover like a happy child. 

But all at once he looked very sad. “ Oh ! 
Bertha,” he said, with a sigh, “ why am I so 
poor ? Why can I not place a gold ring on 
your finger, or put a garnet necklace around 
your neck ?” 

“ It is no worse now than it has been,” said 
Bertha, trying to soothe him. “ But are not 
the red berries beautiful ? ” 

Carl did not seem to hear what she said. 
He was looking at the smoke which rose from 
the charcoal kiln and floated away in blue 
clouds over the tops of the fir-trees. “Why 
will good luck never come to me ? ” said he, 
sadly/ “ There are many riches, known only 
to the fairies, lying hidden in the mountains. 

“ But fortune only laughs at stupid people,” 
continued Carl. “ When they are about to seize 
the gold and rejoice at their good luck, it 
sinks miles deep into the earth. I have gone 


THE ADDER QUEEN. 


53 


into the forest at every hour of the night, but 
no blue light flames up for me, no pale lady 
beckons to me, and no dwarf leads me to the 
treasure in the hollow stone.” 

“Carl,” said Bertha, earnestly, “do not go 
about digging and searching for magic riches ! 
No good will come of it.” Then she said in a 
playful manner, “You can more easily win 
great riches through the golden horned stag, 
on which Lady Holle rides through the forest. 
Every year the magic deer sheds his antlers. 
Seek for them, my Carl ! Those of this year 
must still be lying somewhere in the woods.” 

The charcoal-burner came along just then 
and heard the last words. “ Oho,” he said, “ so 
you would like to find the golden antlers ? 
You ask for a great deal. Would not a hand- 
ful of golden flaxseed husks do as well? 

“ Or how would you like the little crown,” con- 
tinued the charcoal-burner, “ that belongs to the 
Adder Queen, who lives under the red stone 
by the water? If there is anything I wish 


54 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

for, it is the fernseed, which makes one so 
that he cannot be seen. Oh, what fun I 
should have ! ” 

They went on talking in the same way for 
some time and much was said about the won- 
derful things the fairies had put in the forest. 
While it was going on, Carl became more and 
more thoughtful. 

He usually played a tune on his fife to his 
sweetheart before he left her ; but when the 
time came for him to leave to-day, he never 
gave it a thought. With his head bent down, 
he went after his sheep, which the dog had 
kept together by its barking. 

The sun had almost set and a ruddy glow 
lay on the mountains when Carl came out of 
the woods with his flock. Before him lay a 
green field, through the midst of which ran a 
broad, shallow brook, and on the futher side of 
the water, stood a single rock of a reddish 
color, like a big gravestone. Bramble bushes 
and golden yellow flowers grew thickly about 


THE ADDER QUEEN. 


55 


it, and moss and wild thyme clung to its crev- 
ices. Here, then, was the place where the 
Adder Queen was said to live. 

After the sheep had drank the water, Carl 
drove them through the brook, for the town 
in which he and the flock lived, was on the 
other side of the mountain. He was going to 
pass by the red stone as usual, but he stood 
chained to the spot, for it seemed to him as if 
something stirred in the bushes. 

“ What if it should be the Adder Queen ! ” 
thought he. He had once heard that snakes 
loved to hear violin and flute playing, so he 
drew his fife from his shepherd’s pouch, and 
began to play a gentle melody. 

Suddenly from out of the bushes came the 
head of a great white snake, forking her tongue 
and wearing a shining crown. 

Carl was so frightened that he stopped play- 
ing his fife, and the Adder Queen was gone in 
a twinkling. 

What the charcoal-burner had said was then 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


56 

true. Carl left the place quickly, and drove 
his flock in a wide circle around the town. 

The Adder Queen, or rather, her golden 
crown, lay on his mind day and night. But 
how to get it was a question he could not 
answer. 

At last he thought of the old village black- 
smith, who was a wise man, and knew a 
great deal besides how to eat his bread ; per- 
haps something might be learned about it 
from him. So Carl went one evening to the 
blacksmith’s, after he and his men had stopped 
working. 

After asking some advice in regard to a sick 
sheep so as to feel his way, Carl at last 
brought the talk around to the Adder Queen. 
He had come to the right person. The old 
blacksmith knew all about the way in which 
to get hold of the little crown, and was not at 
all slow in telling about it. 

“Whoever would rob the Adder Queen of 
her crown,” he said, “has nothing more to do 


THE ADDER QUEEN. 


57 


than to spread a white cloth on the ground 
before the hole in which she lives. When 
the snake sees it, she will come out, lay the 
crown on the cloth, and then go away. That 
is the time to seize it quickly, and to run 
with all possible speed to the water. 

“ As soon as the Adder Queen finds that her 
crown is missing,” continued the blacksmith, 
“ she will start after the robber, hissing fright- 
fully, and he will be a dead man if he cannot 
get across the brook. But if he is lucky 
enough to reach the farther shore, she can 
do him no harm, and the crown will be his.” 

This is what the blacksmith told Carl, and 
he listened carefully to every word. 

Some days later, the beautiful Bertha was 
sitting in front of her father’s cottage, when 
all of a sudden her lover came running with 
all his might, threw a little sparkling crown 
into her lap, and dropped fainting on the 
ground. 

Bertha gave a scream. Her father came 


58 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

running to her, and a glance at the jewel told 
him what had happened. “He has stolen the 
little crown from the Adder Queen,” he said. 
Then he lifted the fainting Carl from the 
ground, carried him into the cottage, and 
tried to bring him back to life. 

At last Carl came out of his fit, but he lay 
tossing the whole night long on his bed of 
leaves, and did not sleep till the morning came. 

In the course of the day he became himself 
again, and was able to talk. Then care and 
fear went away from the charcoal-burner’s cot- 
tage, and joy came in. The Adder Queen’s 
crown, which had cost so much trouble and 
danger, lay on the table before the lovers, 
who sat together hand in hand, making plans 
for the future. 

They decided not to keep the little crown, 
but to send it to the jeweler’s in the town, 
and turn it into money to buy the wedding 
clothes and bridal wreath which would soon 
adorn the beautiful Bertha’s head. 


THE ADDER QUEEN. 


59 


After the wedding was over, Carl would 
take his young wife to a pretty little house, and 
they would kindle a fire on their own hearth. 
Oh, what a happy time that would be ! 

The next morning Carl went back to the 
village, but he did not go near the red stone 
where the Adder Queen lived. 

The Adder Queen’s crown had twelve 
points, and each point had a blood-red stone. 
As soon as Carl had gone, Bertha took it out 
of the chest, where she had hidden it away,- 
and placed it on her head. 

It was, indeed, a very much prettier thing 
than the red berries of the ash-tree, and Bertha 
wished to see how becoming the jewels were ; 
but there was no looking-glass in the charcoal- 
burner’s cottage. 

Now whenever Bertha wished to look at 
her nut-brown face, she went to the spring 
which bubbled up out of the ground in the for- 
est, not far from the charcoal kiln, so she ran 
there now. 


6o 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


She bent over the clear water, and was 
charmed with her sparkling ornament. “You 
like me, don’t you?” she said to a fat frog, 
sitting on the edge of the spring. And the 
frog said, “ Gloog ! ” jumped into the water, 
and dived under to tell the lady-frog at the 
bottom what a wonderful sight he had seen. 

A gray, green lizard rustled through the 
leaves, raised her head, and looked at the 
pretty girl with the fine jewels on her head. 
Then she went away to her rooms under the 
ground and told her sisters about the beauti- 
ful damsel with the crown on her hair. 

Then the blue titmice came down the road, 
with the queer, fluttering motion that they 
have, and the golden-crested wrens bristled 
their heads with envy, when they saw the bright 
crown that Bertha had. The squirrel peeped 
out from behind the trunk of a pine-tree, and 
a weasel frisked about over the bushes to take 
a look at the girl with the crown. 

Soon the tramp of horses was heard, and 


THE ADDER QUEEN. 6l 

bright dresses could be seen between the 
branches of the trees. Then the merry sound 
of people’s voices came through the air. 

Bertha moved away from the edge of the 
spring, and was about to run to the house, 
but the riders had already stopped in front 
of the charcoal-burner’s cottage. They were 
gentlemen in rich hunting costumes and ladies 
in long, flowing riding dresses, slender young 
falconers, and sunburnt huntsmen with long 
beards. 

Bertha made a low bow to the party. The 
fine looking gentleman on the roan horse was 
the count who owned the land, and the beau- 
tiful lady by his side was his young wife. 

Bertha replied modestly to questions asked 
by the count about the nearest way to the 
meadow, through which the water flowed. 
While doing so the countess caught sight of 
the crown on Bertha’s head, and cried out in 
the greatest surprise, “Tell me, my dear girl, 
how you came by such jewelry as that ? ” 


62 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


Bertha did not know what to say ; but the 
charcoal-burner, who came along just then, 
said : “ It is an old family jewel, most gracious 
lady ; something my great grandfather brought 
home from the war in Italy. If it pleases you, 
pray take it.” 

The countess had the crown brought to her, 
and the maids of honor, who were with her, 
looked long at the precious jewel and admired 
it greatly. 

“ I must have the little crown,” said the 
lady, smiling, and looking towards the count. 

He smiled in return and unfastened a heavy 
purse from his belt. “ Take that for the crown,” 
said he to the charcoal-burner ; “ it is gold. 
You foolish people have probably never 
known what riches were in your cottage.” 

The maids of honor fastened the crown with 
two silver pins to their lady’s velvet hood ; 
then the riders spurred on their horses, waved 
a farewell to the charcoal-burner and his daugh- 
ter, and galloped off through the woods. 


THE ADDER QUEEN. 63 

The hunters soon left the forest behind, 
and before them lay the broad meadow and 
the red stone. 

The brook was wider at this point and 
formed many pools and little eddies where 
flocks of ducks, herons, and other water-fowl 
could always be found. The hawkers gave 
the falcons over to the ladies, and all eyes 
were turned towards the reeds on the banks 
of the water. 

Just then a silver heron flew up, noisily flap- 
ping his wings. The countess quickly took 
the hood from the falcon’s head and let him 
loose, and he flew screaming up in the air till 
he hovered over the heron. 

Then he swooped down, cleverly avoided 
the heron’s bill, and seized the bird with his 
talons. For some time there was a fierce 
struggle in the air ; then both circled round 
and round, and the heron fell with flapping 
wings on the meadow near the red stone. 

The countess was the first to reach the spot 


64 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

where he fell. Her cheeks were glowing with 
excitement, and she sprang out of the saddle 
to free the heron from the falcon’s talons, and 
to place the silver ring, which bore her name, on 
his foot. Then she gave a sudden cry and 
fell on the ground. 

Her friends were very much frightened and 
hurried to her side. The count took his 
young wife in his arms, and anxiously asked 
what had happened. She cried out with pain 
and pointed to her foot. The count bent 
down, and saw that her silk stocking was 
stained with a drop of blood. 

“You have scratched yourself with a thorn,” 
he said, laughing ; “that is nothing.” But the 
countess moaned, her temples began to beat 
quickly, and her face grew as pale as death. 

The count was badly frightened, and gave 
orders for two huntsmen to go for doctors. 
He then wrapped his wife in his cloak, took 
her in front of him on his saddle, and, fol- 
lowed by the others, galloped at full speed 


THE ADDER QUEEN. 


65 


toward the nearest village. There a bed was 
prepared for her and all waited anxiously for 
the doctors to come. 

Her sickness grew worse from hour to hour. 
The old blacksmith, whose advice was asked, 
looked at the wound, shook his head, and 
said that it was no thorn prick, but the bite of 
a poisonous snake. The same opinion was 
given by the doctors when they came. They 
spoke Latin together, shrugged their shoul- 
ders, and used salves and poultices, but they 
did no good. 

The countess grew weaker and weaker, and 
when the evening sun shone over the forest, 
she had not long to live. Death stood out- 
side before the door. 

In the meantime Carl, the shepherd, was 
driving his flock home to the village. Bertha 
had told him how the countess had bought 
the crown, and then they counted the pieces 
of gold and talked about how they should 
spend the money. 


66 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


After a little while, Carl started for home 
and was walking cheerfully along in front of 
his flock and playing a little tune on his fife, 
when suddenly his breath failed him, and his 
hair stood on end. The Adder Queen came 
rushing out of the bushes before him. She 
raised her head, which now had no crown, 
and forked her tongue fiercely at him. 

“ Stand still, or you shall die ! ” hissed the 
snake. And the poor youth stood still, and 
clung to his crook with trembling hands. 

“ Listen, young man, to what I tell you,” 
said the Adder Queen. “ The lady who wore 
my crown is sick and nearly dead ; I stung 
her in the foot. But I guard the plant 
whose juice will make her well. Follow me, 
and I will show you the herb that will heal 
her.” 

The snake glided through the grass, and 
Carl followed her with a beating heart. She 
stopped near the red stone, pulled up a plant 
and handed it to the shepherd. It had deli- 


THE ADDER QUEEN. 6j 

cate little leaves and looked like the forked 
tongue of a snake. 

“ Now hurry, as fast as you can, to the vil- 
lage where the sick lady lies,” said the Adder 
Queen, “ and if you let one drop of the sap 
of the plant fall on her wound, she will be 
cured. But demand the crown as a reward, 
and bring it back to me. Swear that you 
will.” 

The trembling Carl swore as the Adder 
Queen desired, then hurried to the village, 
and asked to be taken to the countess. 

She was still living, but her breathing was 
very faint. On the right of the bed sat the 
count, with his face buried in his hands, and 
all her friends had said farewell to her. 

44 You may try your skill,” said the count to 
Carl, “ and if you succeed in healing her, I 
will make you rich.” 

Then he raised his eyes to Heaven in a 
hasty prayer, and let one drop of the sap of 
the plant fall on the wound. The countess at 


68 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

once opened her eyes, took a long breath, 
and then she lifted her beautiful head from 
the pillows and smiled at her husband. From 
that hour the fever left her, and in the morn- 
ing the countess’s cheeks again took on their 
rosy color, for all her suffering had passed 
away. 

She gladly gave the crown to Carl who had 
healed her, and he, true to his word, carried it 
without delay to the red stone by the water, 
and gave it to the Adder Queen. 

The count kept his word, too. He gave 
Carl a stately mansion, in which Bertha soon 
went to live as Carl’s bride. 

Whether the Adder Queen still dwells 
under the red stone by the water, and whether 
she still wears her little crown, I cannot tell. 
But the castle which the count gave to the 
shepherd, Carl, is still standing, and is called 
the Serpent’s Court. 


THE 

WATER OF FORGETFULNESS. 


In the round tower room of a castle, which 
was filled with guns, bows, spears and other 
articles used in hunting, there sat a youth on 
a wooden stool. His name was Henry. 

He was twisting a bowstring that was made 
out of the sinews of a bird, and singing a gay 
hunting song. His dress showed that he was 
a huntsman and his short hair that he was a 
servant in the castle. 

A cage hung from the ceiling above the 
young fellow’s head, and in the hoop sat a 
gray falcon, with his wings tied and a hood 
over his eyes. From time to time the hunts- 
man would stop his work and set the hoop, 
which was gradually coming to a stop, in quick 
motion again. 


70 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


This was to prevent the falcon from going 
to sleep, for it was a young bird that was to 
be trained for hunting. No falcon can be well 
trained without having been broken in by 
hunger and the loss of sleep. 

The hunting of small birds with falcons 
was a fashionable sport in Europe five hundred 
years ago, and all the gay lords and ladies of 
that time had many of them in their castles, 
and gave much care to training them for that 
purpose. 

Henry had been the count’s falconer, and 
his old master had kept him busy all the time. 
But better days had now come to him. The 
count hunted no longer, for he had died a 
year ago, and his widow, Frau Martha, gave 
no thought to hunting affairs. 

One day the mistress of the castle came out 
of her rooms and went all over the mansion. 
She heard the song that Henry was singing, 
and she followed the voice, and entered the 
falconer’s room in the tower. 


THE WATER OF FORGETFULNESS. Jl 

Henry was surprised when he saw the 
proud lady in her mourning veil and gray 
dress coming in, but he rose and made a low, 
respectful bow. Frau Martha smiled graciously 
at Henry and her smile made him feel ten 
years younger. 

The lady asked many questions about fal- 
cons and the chase, and when she went away, 
she told Henry that she wanted him to ride 
with her through the forest, and show her 
what his falcons could do. 

A few days afterward Frau Martha rode 
into the green forest on a milk-white horse. 
She wore a dress of green velvet and a seal- 
skin hat with curling feathers. Behind her 
rode Henry, the young falconer, with the fal- 
con on his wrist, and his blue eyes shone 
with delight. 

When they had ridden some distance, and 
the towers of the castle had long ago been 
hidden behind the wide-spreading branches of 
the trees, Frau Martha turned her head and 


72 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

said, “ Ride by my side, Henry,” and Henr.y 
did as the lady told him. 

The trees rustled softly, the birds sang, and 
often the little forest creatures ran across the 
road. Now and then there was the crackling 
sound of breaking branches as some deer 
hastened into the woods, or a startled bird 
flew up with fluttering wings, after which the 
forest became silent again. 

Soon the lady of the castle turned her head 
a second time to the huntsman, and said, with 
a smile on her lips, “ Now, let me see, Henry, 
whether you are a well trained huntsman.” 

Then Henry loosened the falcon from his 
wrist, took off the hood that covered its eyes, 
and it flew after two nutcrackers with brown 
wings that just then rose out of some hazel 
bushes that grew along the side of the road. 
The falcon quickly brought them to the ground, 
and it then returned to Henry’s wrist. This 
pleased Frau Martha greatly, and she at once 
promoted Henry to be her chief forester. 


THE WATER OF FORGETFULNESS. 73 

This was, indeed, a fine time for falconer 
Henry. He let his hair grow till it hung down 
in yellow ringlets over his shoulders, he wore 
silver spurs on his boots and a heron’s feather 
in his hat, and he built castles in the air, each 
one more glowing than the last. 

To be sure he owned no castles, but he 
lived in a beautiful house in the forest which 
had deer’s antlers on the gable, and plenty of 
field and meadow land. Frau Martha was so 
pleased with hunting that she went out every 
day with Henry, and he would always be ready 
to meet her when she came riding out to his 
house. After hunting a while, they would both 
return to Henry’s house in the forest, and he 
would entertain her with bread, milk and honey. 

These hunting trips were kept up during 
the summer, fall and part of the winter, and 
then Frau Martha stopped coming. There 
was a great deal of visiting in the neighborhood, 
and the castle looked like a hotel. Henry sat 
lonely in his house, and only once in a while 


74 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

did the report of the merry doings at the 
castle come to his ears. 

At last came the news that Frau Martha had 
been married, and soon after that her husband 
sent word to Henry that he would not be 
wanted any longer as falconer as the new count 
wished to put one of his own men in the 
place. So Henry received orders to leave his 
beautiful house as quickly as possible. 

Henry felt as though his heart would break. 
He remembered the many happy hours he had 
spent hunting with Frau Martha, and he 
could not bear to think of leaving the beauti- 
ful house to which he had become so much 
attached. At last he became very angry at 
the unjust manner in which he was being 
treated, and he strode away into the forest. 

He walked on, not knowing where he was 
going, till night came on. Then he threw 
himself down under a tree, wrapped his cloak 
around him, and sleep came at length to the 
poor, tired out man. 


THE WATER OF FORGETFULNESS. 75 

Henry slept all night long without a dream 
till the chill of the early morning awoke him. 
Then he at once remembered what had hap- 
pened yesterday, and he became very much 
downcast. 

“ Oh, if I could forget,” he cried ; “ if I 
could only forget ! They say that there is a 
fountain, and if one drinks of its waters all the 
past fades from his memory. Who will show 
me the way to that spring ? ” 

“ Here !” said a voice near at hand. “ I am 
very familiar with the water that causes forget- 
fulness, and I will gladly tell you all that I 
know about it.” 

Henry looked up and saw before him a 
youth in dark, ragged clothes. His shoes 
were so old that his toes peeped out at the 
top to see where their master was going to 
take them. He told Henry that he was a 
traveling student, and then said : — 

“ The water which makes one forget is 
found in Greece, but to get it, you will have to 


76 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

take a journey there and ask for it on the 
spot. But if you wish to have it nearer at 
hand, come with me to the tavern of the 
Purple Grape. It is not far from here. 
There the host will give you a taste of the 
water of forgetfulness, in case your purse is 
longer than mine.” 

These were the student’s words. Henry 
rose and went with him to the forest inn. 
There, I am sorry to say, they drank together 
all one day and half the night, and towards 
midnight they lay in a drunken sleep on the 
floor of the tavern like two beasts. Henry 
had forgotten all about his sorrow and trouble 
of the day before. 

But when morning came he remembered 
his woes, and they made him feel worse than 
before. Besides all this he had a terrible head- 
ache as a result of his hard drinking. So, 
you see, that this did him no good at all. Then 
he paid his own bill and that of the student’s, 
said a hasty good-by to him, and went on farther. 


THE WATER OF FORGETFULNESS. 77 

“ Oh, who could forget ! ” he said as he 
went along, beating his forehead with his fist. 
“ I must find the fountain, or I shall really 
become insane.” 

Now by the roadside there stood an old half 
dead willow tree, and in it sat a raven, who 
turned his head toward the lonely Henry and 
looked at him with curiosity. 

“You wise bird,” said Henry to the raven, 
“you know everything that happens on the 
earth ; tell me, where does the water of forget- 
fulness flow?” 

“ I, too, should like to know that,” said the 
raven, “ so that I might drink of it myself. I 
knew of a nest with seven fat, nut fed dormice, 
and when I went yesterday to see what the 
dear little creatures were doing, the marten 
had taken the nest away from me and not a 
piece of it was left. And now, no matter 
where I go, I can think of nothing but my loss. 

“Indeed, who can tell about the water of 
forgetfulness?” continued the raven. “But 


78 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

do you wish to know something, my dear 
fellow? Just go to the old woman of the 
forest, who is wiser than other people ; per- 
haps she knows about the water of forgetful- 
ness.” Then the raven told Henry the way 
to the old woman of the forest, and he thanked 
him and went on. 

The old woman was at home. She sat in 
front of her cottage, spinning, and nodding 
her white head. By her side a gray cat, with 
grass green eyes, sat licking her paws and 
purring. 

Henry stepped up to the old woman, bowed 
respectfully to her, and told her what he was 
trying to find. 

44 I know everything about the water of for- 
getfulness,” said the old woman of the forest, 
44 and will be glad to have you drink of it, you 
poor boy. But no work, no pay : if you wish 
to have a glass of the precious water, you 
must first perform three tasks for me. Will 
you do it ? ” 


THE WATER OF FORGETFULNESS. 79 

“ If I can,” said Henry. 

“ I do not expect you to do impossible 
things. To begin with, you shall cut down the 
wood behind my house. That is the first 
job.” 

Henry said he would do so, and the old 
woman gave him an ax and led him to the 
place. Henry stretched himself and swung 
the ax, and every time he struck a blow he 
imagined that he hit his rival. The trees fell 
crashing beneath his mighty strokes, and the 
crashing did him good. 

By and by evening came on, and Henry 
looked about for food, for he was very hun- 
gry. He did not have long to wait, for a 
young woman came out of the house who 
placed a basket with food and drink beside the 
weary wood-cutter. 

When Henry raised his eyes, he saw before 
him a wonderfully lovely girl whose long yel- 
low hair was done up in braids that hung 
down her back. The last rays of the setting 


8o 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


sun fell on her, and made her look prettier 
than you can imagine. She was the old 
forest woman’s daughter. She looked at the 
sad young fellow with gentle eyes, and stood 
before him for several minutes. But as he 
said nothing, she went away again. 

Henry ate his supper and then he gathered 
together some fir boughs and wood moss for 
a bed, laid himself down, and slept the dream- 
less sleep of a tired man. But when he awoke 
in the morning, his sorrow awoke also. 

Then he seized the ax and attacked the 
trees so hard that you might have heard the 
noise of his mighty blows for miles around. 
When the beautiful maiden came with his 
supper that evening, Henry did not look as 
sad as the day before ; and because he felt 
that he must say something, he said, “ Fine 
weather to-day.” The maiden answered, “Yes, 
very fine weather.” Then she nodded and 
went home. 

Thus seven days passed away, each one like 


THE WATER OF FORGETFULNESS. 8 1 

the other, and on the seventh day the last tree 
was cut down. Then the old forest woman 
came out, praised Henry for his industry, and 
said. “ Now comes the second task.” 

Then Henry had to dig up the trees, break 
up the soil, plant corn and sow seed. This 
took him seven weeks. Every evening after 
his day’s work was done, the old woman’s 
daughter brought him his supper and sat near 
by on the trunk of a tree, and listened to Henry 
as he told her about the great world outside 
of the forest. 

When he finished, she would give him her 
white hand and say, “ Good-night, dear Henry.” 
Then she went home, but Henry would look 
around for a resting-place and go to sleep 
without any delay. 

When the seven weeks had passed, the old 
woman came and looked at his work, praised 
him for his industry, and said : “ Now comes 
the third task. With the wood you have 
felled, you must build me a house with seven 


82 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


rooms, and when you have finished that, 
too, then you shall have a glass of the water 
of forgetfulness, and may go wherever you 
please.” 

Then Henry became a carpenter, and with 
ax and saw he built a splendid house. To 
be sure, the work went on slowly at first, 
because Henry worked without help; but he 
did not mind that as he enjoyed the green 
forest, and liked to live near the old woman. 
He sometimes thought of his former sorrow, 
but only as one who has had a bad dream, 
from which he is glad to be awakened in the 
morning. 

Every evening the forest woman’s daughter 
came out to see him, and they sang together, 
sometimes gay hunting songs, sometimes 
songs which told of parting and sometimes 
songs of love and joyful meetings. 

Soon seven months had passed by. Then 
the house was finished from threshold to roof- 
tree. Henry had placed a young fir-tree on 


THE WATER OF FORGETFULNESS. 83 

the gable, and the maiden had made wreaths 
of fir twigs and red berries from the mountain- 
ash, and trimmed the walls with them. 

The old woman, with the cat on her shoulder, 
came on her crutch to inspect the work which 
he had done. She looked very solemn, and in 
her hand she carried a strange old-fashioned 
goblet carved out of wood, and filled with 
the water of forgetfulness. 

44 You have done the three tasks which I 
have given you,” she said, 44 and now comes 
the reward. Take this goblet, and drink the 
water to the last drop, and then the past will 
be blotted out of your memory.” 

Henry was slow in putting out his hand 
towards the goblet, so the old woman said to 
him : — 

44 Drink and forget everything.” 

“Everything?” said Henry. 

“ Yes, everything — your former sorrow, 
myself, and — ” 

“ And me, too,” said the beautiful maiden, 


84 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

and she held her hand before her eyes to keep 
back the rising tears. 

Then Henry seized the goblet with his 
strong hand, flung it on the ground so that the 
sparkling drops of the water fell all over the 
grass, and cried, “Mother, I will stay with you! ” 

Before he knew what had happened to him, 
the maiden laid her head on his shoulder and 
sobbed for joy. Then a rustling went through 
the trees, and the yellow corn all around 
nodded in the wind, the birds sang in the 
branches, and the old woman’s gray cat went 
purring round and round the happy pair. In 
fact everything on the place felt happy over 
Henry’s wise choice. 

Something wonderful did really happen. 
Wherever a drop of the water of forgetfulness 
fell on the ground, there sprang up a little 
flower with eyes of heavenly blue. The flower 
has since spread over the whole earth, and for 
those who do not know its name this story 
was not written. 


THE WATER OF FORGETFULNESS. 85 

Henry and his wife lived many happy years 
together. He never tired of telling his friends 
what a good thing hard work is for those who 
are sad and sorrowful. 




THE WITCHING-STONE 


Gay banners and flags were flying from the 
tower of the castle, the bells in the village near- 
by were all ringing joyously and everybody 
was happy because the count had a little son. 
He was a healthy and well formed little boy, 
and he made the room echo with his strong 
voice. The count was so happy and well 
pleased that he opened his strong box and 
made many presents to the poor and needy 
to show how thankful he felt. 

One of the count’s servants was an old 
woman by the name of Catharine. She knew 
how to care for the sick and to be useful in 
many ways, and she had charge of the count’s 
wife and little boy. 


THE WITCHING-STONE. 


87 


Her daughter, whose name was Minna, was 
her helper. She was a tall woman whose hair 
was as black as a raven’s, but she had a low 
forehead and a flat nose. She did not have a 
pretty face, but people always admired her 
because she was tall and well formed. 

The other servants did not like old Cathar- 
ine. She had often been seen in the woods at 
night looking for herbs and strange plants, 
and people thought that she was an old wood 
sprite who had the power to harm beasts, and 
hurt those who displeased her. 

They did not like her daughter Minna, 
either, because they thought she had become 
vain and foolish through being admired by so 
many people. 

One day Minna was cleaning a chicken to 
make a broth for the countess, when she found 
something that caused her to say quickly : — 

“ Look, mother ! see what is in the chick- 
en’s crop ; see the stone he swallowed ! ” 

“ Let me see,” said old Catharine, with curi- 


88 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


osity, and Minna handed what she had found 
to her mother. It was a white, sparkling 
stone, shaped like a bean. 

“ Oh, you lucky child ! ” cried the mother ; 
“ that is a jewel more precious than a ruby 
or a diamond.” Then she looked anxiously 
about her, fearing that a third person might 
have been watching them, but no one else was 
in the kitchen. 

“ Dearest daughter,” continued the old 
woman — and her eyes shone like cat’s eyes — 
“ the stone will bring you good luck. Keep 
your mouth shut, and tell no human being 
anything about the chicken’s stone. Hide it 
carefully in your waist and guard it as the 
apple of your eye. The good luck which the 
jewel brings, will soon come. Go to your 
room and put on your holiday gown, for 
to-day you shall carry the count’s breakfast to 
him.” 

In time the count liked Minna so much 
that he forgot about his wife, the countess, 


THE WITCHING-STONE. 89 

and his little boy, Bruno. The countess sat 
silent and full of sorrow in her room, and little 
Bruno lay in his cradle by her side. 

She would spend half the night in crying, 
and the nurse had to tell her gently that harm 
would come to her little boy if she did not be- 
come more cheerful. So the unhappy mother 
would compel herself to smile, and would sing 
in a low voice to little Bruno the old cradle 
song of the white and black sheep. 

A whole year passed this way. Little Bruno 
grew, thrived and became a beautiful, sturdy 
child. 

One day his nurse was sitting with him in 
the castle garden. He was playing in the 
grass with a small wooden horse, and his 
mother was standing on the balcony and look- 
ing at him with great delight. Suddenly 
Bruno rose and stood on his feet, and walked 
without help for the first time. 

Just then Minna came along. The boy 
bent toward her, seeking a support, and 


90 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

grasped a fold of her dress with his little 
hand. She became very angry and gave 
Bruno such a push with her foot that he fell 
on his back, screaming. Then she went on 
her way, scolding. 

When the mother saw how the bold woman 
had treated her child, her heart was filled 
with pain, but she said nothing. She hurried 
down into the garden to her son, and soothed 
him with kisses. Then she sent the nurse 
into the house on an errand, took the little 
one up and left the garden and castle without 
being seen by any one. 

The countess and Bruno were not missed 
till just as night was coming on. The count 
was very much frightened, and sent out ser- 
vants with torches to look for them in every 
direction. He himself mounted a horse and 
rode all around the country, but all came back 
without having found the lost ones. 

The search was kept up for two or three 
days longer, but without finding the countess 


THE WITCHING-STONE. 9 1 

and Bruno. Then the count put on mourn- 
ing, and hung a black flag from the tower. 

People thought that the countess and little 
Bruno had been killed by some wild beast in 
the forest. Minna and her wicked mother 
carried their heads higher than ever, and the 
old woman said to the young one: “ It is a 
good thing that she has gone off with her 
child of her own free will ; if she had not 

” But she said no more. 

* * * 

The countess was not dead, and little 
Bruno, too, was still alive. When she left the 
castle she was so full of grief and sorrow that 
she went into the forest not knowing where 
she was going. She walked the whole night 
long, carrying the sleeping child in her arms. 
Sometimes the eyes' of a wolf shone out of 
the darkness between the fir-trees, but it did 
the poor mother no harm. 

Towards morning, when the chilly wind 
blew through the trees, her tender feet, which 


92 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

were not used to walking, would carry her no 
farther, and she sank down on the wood moss 
and cried bitterly. Now, for the first time, 
she felt that she and her little boy surely would 
die of cold and hunger. 

Just then there stood before the poor, hope- 
less mother a very old man, whose snow-white 
beard fell down from his face like a waterfall. 
In his right hand he carried a staff and in his 
left a bundle of herbs. 

The old man was a hermit who had turned 
his back on the noise and bustle of the world 
and lived in the forest. He gave the mother 
and child some food, and led them to his hut. 

The countess felt that she could trust the 
hermit and she told him who she was and why 
she had taken her flight. Then the old man 
comforted her and said, “ Stay with me, and 
share my poor house with me.” 

So the countess and her child lived with the 
hermit. He cut down a lot of willow twigs 
and made a wall of wickerwork so that his 


THE WITCHING-STONE. 93 

hut was divided into two rooms. The coun- 
tess and little Bruno lived in one of them, and 
the hermit gave them plenty of wood moss and 
soft fur for a bed on which to sleep. For 
food, he gave them goat’s milk and plenty of 
berries, roots and wild fruits. 

The life in the forest made little Bruno 
grow strong and healthy and it was good for 
the countess, also. But her heart was still 
filled with a secret grief, for she could not for- 
get her husband, and she thought of him day 
and night. Nearly two years passed this way. 

One morning little Bruno was jumping 
about in the forest and playing with a hazel 
switch, when he heard the hoarse cry of a 
raven. When he went toward the sound, he 
saw on the ground a flock of the black birds, 
who were attacking one of the number with 
their bills. 

Bruno ran toward them and the ravens flew 
away, but the one whom they had treated so 
badly, could not lift himself into the air and 


94 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

hopped painfully about on the ground, so that 
it was easy for Bruno to catch the bird. 

As he held the raven in his hand, Bruno 
saw an arrow sticking in one of his wings. 
He pulled it out and carried the raven home. 
The hermit looked at the hurt and put a 
salve on the wound, and little Bruno cared 
for the sick bird very faithfully. The child 
and the raven soon became great friends. 

After some days the bird was well again. 
When he felt that he was able to fly, he 
flapped his wings with a croak, flew out of the 
door and alighted on the bough of a tree not 
far from the hut. Bruno did not wish to lose 
the raven, and ran after him to catch him ; 
but just as he thought he was going to catch 
the bird, it flew away from him. This kept 
up until it grew dark, and the raven was lost 
to sight in the shadow of the trees. 

Bruno now wanted to turn back home, but 
he had long since lost sight of the hermits hut 
and did not know which way to turn. He 


THE WITCHING-STONE. 95 

sat down under a tree and cried and called his 
mother, and he was hungry and tired, too. 

All at once the raven came in sight again. 
He carried a piece of bread in his bill, and 
dropped it in front of the child. Bruno seized 
it and ate it eagerly, and was half comforted. 
After a while he fell asleep. 

The next morning Bruno was awakened by 
the croaking of the raven. He rose and fol- 
lowed the bird, who flew before him, for he 
hoped it would lead him back to the hermit’s 
hut. But the wise raven had a very different 
plan. 

After walking many hours over the rough 
ground of the forest, the trees became wider 
apart and fewer in number and Bruno saw be- 
fore him a shining castle, from the tower of 
which waved a gay banner. It was the castle 
in which he had been born, but he did not 
know it. 

The raven had left him some time before, 
but the tired little fellow went up to the castle 


g6 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

and sat down under a linden-tree near the 
gateway. The keeper, who was armed with 
spear and helmet, stepped up to him and 
asked him who he was, where he had come from 
and what he wanted ; but Bruno could tell him 
nothing. 

The servants gathered about the child, but 
they could not find out anything from him ex- 
cept that he came out of the forest, was hun- 
gry and wished that he was with his mother 
again. Then out of pity they gave him some- 
thing to eat, and went about their work. The 
servants had plenty to do, for on the next day 
the count was to be married to the dark 
skinned Minna. 

As Bruno was sitting under the linden-tree, 
eating the food that had been brought to him, 
he heard the sound of wings. He looked up 
and saw the raven flying just a little above 
his head. The raven carried something in his 
bill that shone brightly, and he let it fall into 
Bruno’s lap. 


THE WITCHING-STONE. 


97 


It was a fine gold chain from which hung a 
white, sparkling stone shaped like a bean. 
Bruno was greatly pleased with the pretty 
jewel. After looking it over very carefully, 
he at last put it into one of his pockets. 
When the raven saw this, he croaked with de- 
light, and flew up to the top of the tower. 

Now the moment that the raven brought 
the stone to Bruno, the count began to think 
of his wife and little boy who had left him so 
suddenly two years ago. He imagined that 
they were dead, and blamed himself for it. 
In order to get rid of these thoughts he had 
his horse saddled, and took his hunting spear 
to hunt in the forest. 

As he rode out at the gate, his eyes fell on 
little Bruno sitting under the linden-tree. He 
looked so forlorn that the count felt sorry at 
heart for him, and he thought of his own lit- 
tle son who would be about the same age as 
this strange child if the wolves had not torn 
him to pieces. 


^8 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

He stopped his horse and looked at the child, 
and a strong feeling he could not overcome 
compelled him to jump from the saddle and 
caress the boy. Bruno threw his arms about 
the count’s neck, and said in a low, childish 
voice that went right to the count’s heart : — 

“ Take me back to my mother ! ” 

“ Where is your mother ? ” asked the count. 
“ There!” said the boy, pointing with his 
finger toward the forest. 

Then the raven came croaking and flying 
around the father and his son, and Bruno 
said : — 

“There is the bird that led me here; he 
knows the way to my mother.” The raven 
screamed “ Krah !” and flew toward the for- 
est. Then he sat down and turned his wise 
head towards those he had left behind him. 
The count noticed this and said : — 

“We will try to find your mother.” So he 
lifted Bruno on his horse and rode into the 
wood, and the raven flew ahead of them. 


' THE WITCHING-STONE. 


99 


During all this time there had been great 
distress and sorrow in the hermit’s hut. The 
countess and the hermit had searched each 
day in the forest for Bruno, and at evening 
they both returned from different directions 
without finding him. The poor mother had 
lost all hope of finding her little son, and the 
old hermit tried in vain to speak some words 
of comfort to her. 

Suddenly they heard the croaking of a 
raven and the sound of hoofs, and the 
countess hastened to the door of the hut to 
see who was coming. As she looked she saw 
a stately knight come riding along, holding the 
lost child on the saddle in front of him. 

“Mother! Mother!” cried Bruno, still at 
a distance, stretching out his little arms. The 
countess was about to hurry towards him, but 
she trembled so that she was obliged to hold 
on to the door-post, for the rider was well- 
known to her. 

The count pulled in his horse, sprang down 


L.of C. 


IOO 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


and set the child on the ground. Then he 
turned his eyes towards the trembling lady, 
and with a loud cry threw himself down at her 
feet. She flung her arms about her husband’s 
neck and clung to him, laughing and crying. 

The ‘sun had gone to rest, and the bright 
moon was shining over the forest before they 
had finished caressing each other. After a 
late supper, the count and his wife sat by the 
hearth fire in the hermit’s hut as happy as a 
bride and groom who have just been married. 

Bruno had been playing a long time with 
the raven. Just then he came running to 
his mother, and laid the little chain, from which 
hung the white stone, in her lap. 

“ Where did you get this jewel ? ” asked his 
mother. And Bruno replied : — 

“ The raven gave it to me when I was sit- 
ting in front of the castle, under the tree.” 

The hermit looked at the stone, took it in 
his hand, examined it closely and said : — 

“ It is the Alectorius stone, of which the 


THE WITCHING-STONE. 


IOI 


wise old people tell wonderful things. 1 1 grows 
in a chicken’s crop, and when worn by a woman 
it gives her a great deal of power over men. 
Believe me, my daughter, this stone has been 
the cause of your sorrow.” 

Then the count seized the chain, threw it on 
the floor and raised his foot in order to crush 
the Alectorius stone. But the raven was too 
quick for him. He snatched the chain with 
his bill, and flew out of the window with it. 

Whether he carried the jewel to his nest to 
enjoy its brilliancy, or whether he tried the 
stone’s magic power on some other raven the 
one who tells this story has never been able to 
find out. 

But this much the writer has found out, and 
that is that we should follow little Bruno’s ex- 
ample in caring for the raven, and always be 
kind to birds and other animals. 


THE DONKEY’S SPRING. 


In a green valley, shut in by high hills, is 
a cool, deep well called the Donkey’s Spring. 
The spring is nicely walled in and covered over 
with a pretty building called the Golden Goose. 
On the top of this building is a tin donkey, 
which acts as a weather vane. 

This spring is known all over the country 
because its water has cured so many people 
of their ills and diseases, and great numbers 
come to the valley every summer to drink the 
water, and become well again. 

There are a great many opinions as to how 
this well came to be known as the Donkey’s 
Spring, and you will have to read this story if 
you really want to know the reason. 

Many, many years ago, when the largest tree 
in the forest was still a germ sleeping in a brown 
acorn, nothing was known of the power of the 


THE DONKEY’S SPRING 103 

Donkey’s Spring to cure sickness. The visitors 
who then drank of it were the beasts of the 
forest and deer. 

After a while the men who worked in the 
forest, and the cattle, found what a good spring 
it was. The men praised the cool water, and 
the beasts did the same after their own fashion. 

One day two stood by the well — one on this 
side ; the other on that. He was a donk'ey, and 
she was a goose, and both of them were very 
young. They bowed to each other in silence, 
and then both drank of the water. 

Then they said, “ Good-morning,” and be- 
came acquainted with each other, and the next 
thing they did was to tell their histories. 

The goose began first, and this is her his- 
tory : — 

“ I am called Elsa,” said the goose, “ and 
am of good family. One of my relations was 
one of the sacred geese that saved Rome. Do 
you know the story, young gentleman ? ” 

The donkey had really never heard the 


104 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

story, but he did not wish to grieve the goose, 
so he said, “ Yes.” 

“ Another of my mother’s relations,” said 
Elsa, “was on friendly terms with St. Martin. 
She is said to have given her life for him. 
But I will not detain you with the history of 
my relations, but will tell you about myself. I 
came into the world with eleven brothers and 
sisters, on a farm where my mother lived as a 
brooding goose. I was my mother’s pet, for 
in our family the youngest child is always the 
most talented.” 

“Just as it is in ours,” remarked the don- 
key. 

“ The years of my girlhood were passed 
very happily,” continued Elsa. “ I played in 
the village pond and on the village common 
with my brothers and sisters, and often went 
to the lake in the castle garden, where, in the 
company of the young swans, I gained that 
elegance of motion for which I have been so 
often admired. 


THE DONKEY’S SPRING. 105 

“ Long after I had shed the yellow down 
of youth and had blossomed into the prime of 
life,” continued Elsa, “there appeared one day 
on the farm a man, who had a huge pack slung 
over his shoulder. The farmer’s wife and the 
maids flocked around him, and looked with 
longing eyes at the bright colored ribbons and 
trinkets which he took out of his bag. 

“To make a long story short,” continued 
Elsa, “ I was caught, my feet and wings were 
bound and I was given over to the stranger, 
who took me in exchange for a blue handker- 
chief decorated with red roses. Now came 
very sad days. I was shut up in a narrow coop, 
and given balls of barley flour to fatten me. 
I soon saw that I increased in size from day to 
day, but my sorrow over my want of freedom 
did not stop me from growing larger.” 

Here the donkey looked at his companion 
and declared that he never had seen a more 
elegant goose. Elsa looked very thankful and 
continued : — 


io6 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


“ Last night — I shake when I think of it — I 
heard dreadful cries of agony, which seemed 
to come from the throat of one of my fellow 
prisoners. I saw two eyes shine in the moon- 
light, and heard the rattle of death. A fox or 
a polecat must have broken into the coop. 
Fear lent me strength, and I forced myself 
through the bars of my prison and escaped. 
My wings bore me to this valley ; and now I 
shall try to live as a wild goose until winter 
comes, when I shall, perhaps, find a more 
modest and comfortable position.” 

Elsa sighed deeply and then was silent. 

“ My life,” said the donkey, “ has been very 
much like yours, Miss Elsa. Look at the black 
cross which is on my shoulder ; that will tell 
you all. One of my relations was the sacred 
ass of Jerusalem, and Baldwin is my name. 
In fact our family goes all the way back to 
Noah’s ark. 

“My father and mother belonged to a con- 
vent, and bore the good sisters on many errands 


THE DONKEY’S SPRING. 107 

of mercy,” continued Baldwin. “My brothers 
and sisters were kept for the harder work, but I 
was sold to a miller. He made me do a great 
many things that could hardly be expected of 
a donkey who has such noble relations. 

“ For a long time I suffered in silence,” con- 
cluded Baldwin, “ but one night, when the 
cruelty of a rough miller’s boy drove me wild, 
I broke my harness, dashed out of the stable 
and came to this peaceful forest valley, where 
I found you by the cool well, Miss Elsa. I 
think I shall stay here for the present, and live 
the life of a wild donkey.” 

So the donkey and the goose both staid in 
the meadow valley. They saw each other 
and talked together every day, and at last one 
could no longer live without the other. They 
were happy and sad at the same time. 

“ Oh ! why was I born a goose ! ” cried Elsa, 
and Baldwin, the donkey, sighed, “ If only I 
were a bird ! ” and he knew, too, what kind of 
a bird he vrould be. 


io8 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


Thus the weeks passed by. You could see 
that Baldwin became thinner every day 
although there was plenty of nourishing food 
in the meadow valley. The goose lost the red 
color from her bill, and her eyes became dull. 

Now there lived in a hollow stone in the 
forest, an owl, who was the most clever bird 
anywhere about, and the beasts often went to 
her for advice. Baldwin went to see her and 
told her of his trouble, and the owl listened 
patiently to all he had to say. 

Then she said : “I am sorry I cannot help 
you, but wait till Midsummer. Then the wise 
Wish-Lady comes to the spring in the meadow 
valley. Tell her your trouble. Perhaps she 
will help you and change your form, for she 
is a very powerful fairy.” 

Baldwin went away feeling much better. 
On Midsummer eve, when Elsa, the goose, 
had gone to her resting-place, he hid himself 
near the spring and waited for the Wish- 
Lady. 


THE DONKEY’S SPRING. IO9 

She did not keep him waiting long. She 
came flying along in her dress of swan’s 
feathers, and sat down by the cool spring. The 
donkey waited with a donkey’s patience until 
she was ready to hear him. While she was 
combing her hair, Baldwin stepped up to her, 
beat his fore hoof three times on the ground 
as a greeting, and begged the Wish-Lady to 
take pity on him and change him to a gander. 

The Wish-Lady shook her head. “ That is 
a strange wish,” she thought, “ but I can give 
him what he wants and I will.” 

So she told Baldwin to listen very attentively 
to what she would tell him to do, and the 
donkey put his big ears close to the Wish- 
Lady so as not to lose a word she would say. 
“ Early to-morrow morning,” said the Wish- 
Lady, “ at sunrise, pick seven ox-eyed daisies 
and eat them silently ; then plunge your head 
into the spring, and you will be changed to a 
fine gander. And now go your way and leave 
me alone.” 


I IO 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


Baldwin thanked her from the bottom of his 
heart, and went away. He never closed his 
eyes all night and as soon as the tops of the 
mountains began to grow red, he was up on 
his feet and away to look for the seven ox- 
eyed daisies. 

Then he hurried to the spring, and plunged 
his head in. When he drew it out again, he 
was delighted to see by looking into the water 
that he had become a handsome gander, with 
a beautifully curved neck. 

He hurried as fast as he could go to the 
thicket where the goose lived, and cried, “ Elsa ! 
Elsa ! where are you ? ” 

44 Here, I am,” sounded from the thicket, 
and a pretty little donkey came dancing out 
of the bushes. 

They looked at each other, dumb with sur- 
prise. 

44 Oh, what a donkey I am!” sighed the 
gander. 

44 Oh, what a goose I am!” groaned the 


THE DONKEY’S SPRING. 


I I I 


Then the hot tears poured from their eyes. 
In the midst of her weeping, Elsa told how 
she had followed the advice of the owl and 
sought the Wish-Lady, who had granted her 
request, and changed her to a donkey. Bald- 
win, between heavy sobs, told what he had 
done, and the Midsummer sun never shone on 
two more wretched creatures than our two 
friends. 

But time heals all things. After their first 
sorrow was over they took hope in the thought 
that perhaps the Wish-Lady on her next visit 
to the spring would change one of them back 
again. It would be a whole year before 
Midsummer eve came round again, but they 
decided to wait patiently for it, and so Bald- 
win and Elsa lived again like brother and 
sister. 

The winter brought much suffering and 
danger to them, but spring soon came. The 
sun mounted higher and higher, and at last 
Midsummer eve had come. 


I 12 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


With beating hearts, Baldwin and Elsa this 
time went together to the spring and told 
their trouble to the Wish-Lady. 

“ This is a bad affair,” said the fairy. “ I 
cannot change either of you back again, how- 
ever willing I may be to do you the favor. 
But I will tell you what I will do. How would 
you like to become human beings ? Out of a 
donkey and a goose it would not be hard 
to make a youth and a maiden, and that I can 
do. Would that please you ? ” 

“ Yes,” cried Baldwin and Elsa, with one 
voice. 

The Wish-Lady said some words in a low 
voice, and told them both to plunge their heads 
into the spring. They obeyed her and, when 
they took them out again, Baldwin had become 
a stout young man with a fine, good-natured 
face, and in front of him stood a charming 
little woman, with a prettily arched, rosy 
mouth and beautiful eyes. 

They fell down at the Wish-Lady’s feet 


THE DONKEY’S SPRING. 


I 13 


and gratefully kissed her hands, and then they 
kissed each others’ lips and whispered in each 
others’ ears. The Wish-Lady, seeing that 
they were happy, wrapped herself in her dress 
of feathers and flew away. 

The two young people remained in the 
meadow valley. Baldwin built a house and 
in it they passed a happy life, and each year 
was happier than the one that went before it. 

No one in the villages near them supposed 
that Baldwin had been a donkey and Elsa a 
goose, for they were as sensible as other 
people. They minded their own affairs and 
kept their past life a secret because they did 
not wish to have their neighbors think ill of 
them. 

But when they were about to die, they 
told their eldest son all about the wonderful 
change that the Wish-Lady had made in them, 
and it was he who named “ The Golden 
Goose ” and “The Donkey’s Spring,” as they 
are still called at the present day. 


THE EA5TER RABBIT. 


Little Minchin was the four -year- old 
daughter of a count who was very fond of hunt- 
ing. He was going hunting on the day when 
my story begins, and the huntsmen had brought 
the horses and dogs around to the front of the 
castle to meet him. 

Little Minchin was standing with old Ursula, 
her nurse, in the open doorway watching them 
when her father came through the hall. 

The count lifted his little daughter into his 
arms, kissed her and said : — 

“We are going to ride in the forest where 
the spotted fawns leap about and, if I see the 
Easter rabbit, I will give her my Minchin’s 
love, and tell her that next year she must lay 
a nest full of bright colored eggs for you.” 

Minchin laughed and kissed her father’s face 
with her rosy little lips. Then he swung him- 


THE EASTER RABBIT. I I 5 

self upon his black horse, and the hunters rode 
out at the castle gate. 

“Frau Ursula, take good care of the little 
one ! ” called the count to the nurse as he rode 
away, and he waved his hand once more. 
Then he passed out of sight. 

Little Minchin played in the castle during 
the morning, but in the afternoon she went 
into the garden. Old Ursula had twice told 
her the story of the Easter rabbit and her 
seven little ones, and now the good woman 
was quietly sleeping on the stone bench under 
the linden-tree. 

Minchin caught a lady-bug and began to 
count the dots on her wings, but before she 
had finished, the lady-bug flew away and 
Minchin ran after her until she lost sight of her. 

Then she saw a brown butterfly that had 
great eyes in its wings, resting on a bluebell. 
Minchin was just going to seize it, when all of 
a sudden it flew over the garden wall. 

Of course Minchin could not follow it 


Il6 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

over there, but what was the gate in the wall 
for? So she stood on tiptoe, pressed down 
the latch and then she was in the forest. 

“ So here is where the Easter rabbit lives 
with her seven little ones,” thought Minchin. 
She hunted all about, but the little rabbits 
could not be found, so she went deeper into 
the woods. 

She had gone some distance and was think- 
ing whether it would not be better to turn 
round, when a black and white spotted magpie 
flew along and stood in her way. 

“ Where did you get that shining chain 
around your neck?” said the magpie, and 
he looked spitefully at Minchin, with his head 
on one side. V Give me the chain or I will 
peck you with my bill.” 

The poor child was frightened, and with 
trembling hands she unfastened the gold chain, 
took it from her neck and threw it to the mag- 
pie. He seized the jewel with his bill and flew 
away with it. 


THE EASTER RABBIT. I I 7 

This made Minchin tired of the woods. 
44 Oh dear, my little necklace ! ” .she sobbed ; 
“ how they will scold me at home if I go back 
without my chain.” She turned around and 
ran back, as she thought, the same way that 
she had come, but she only went deeper into 
the forest. 

“To-whoo ! to-whoo !” sounded out of an 
old hollow tree. Minchin looked up in great 
fear and saw an owl glaring at her with round, 
fiery eyes and cracking his crooked bill. “To- 
whoo!” said the owl, “where did you get 
that beautiful veil on your head ? Give me 
the veil or I will scratch you with my claws.” 

Minchin trembled like a leaf. She threw 
down the veil and ran as fast as she could from 
the owl, but he took the veil and put it over 
his face in great glee. 

Minchin kept on walking, but she had no 
idea where she was going. Her feet tripped 
over the twisted roots of the trees that rose 
out of the ground like brown snakes, and her 


I 1 8 TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 

dress was torn by the briers on the bushes. 
Soon there was a rustling in the top of a tree, 
and a red squirrel skipped down the trunk. 

“That will do me no harm,” thought Min- 
chin, but there she was mistaken, for the 
squirrel was not any better than the magpie 
or the owl. 

“ Ah ! what a beautiful little hood you 
have,” it said ; “ it would make a soft, warm 
nest for my young ones. Give me the hood 
or I will bite you with my sharp teeth.” 

Then Minchin gave away her hood and 
continued her walking, crying bitterly. Her 
feet could hardly carry her another step, but 
her sorrow kept urging her on. 

After a while the trees became wider apart, 
and at last Minchin came to a sunny meadow. 
Bluebells and pinks grew in the grass, and gay 
butterflies danced in the air. 

But Minchin never thought of catching 
the butterflies, or gathering the flowers. She 
sat down on the grass and wept and sobbed 
enough to melt the heart of a stone. 


THE EASTER RABBIT. 


While she was sitting there she saw an old 
man come out of the woods. He had a long 
gray beard and wore a broad-brimmed hat 
with a wide band, and he carried a white staff 
in his hand. Behind him flew two ravens. 

The man walked to where Minchin was sit- 
ing, stood in front of her and asked in a gentle 
voice, “ Why are you weeping, my child?” 

Minchin felt that she could trust the old 
man, so she told him who she was, and what 
the wicked creatures had done to her. 

“ Never mind, Minchin,” said the old man, 
kindly, “ I will send you home.” He beckoned 
to the ravens and they flew on his shoulders 
and listened attentively to what the old man 
said to them. Then they spread their wings 
and flew away as swift as arrows. 

It was not long before they came back 
again and, strange to say, they brought the 
Easter rabbit with them. When the rabbit 
saw the old man with the broad hat, she 
bowed so low that her nose touched the 


120 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


ground. Then she stood meekly like a slave, 
waiting her master’s orders. 

Then the old man said : “ Beloved and 
trusted Mistress Rabbit, here is a lost child. 
Do you know where her home is ? ” 

The rabbit looked closely at Minchin, then 
she moved her ears and mouth quickly and 
said : “Yes, to be sure, Herr Wode, I know 
the child ; her father is the count who lives in 
the forest castle.” 

“ Very well,” said the man, “you must carry 
her there because she is lost.” 

The rabbit moved her ears thoughtfully to 
and fro. “ That will be a hard piece of work,” 
she replied. 

“ It is hard,” said the old man, “ but it must 
be done. Get quickly to work, or we are 
friends no more.” 

“If it is your command, I must obey,” said 
the rabbit, so she seized Minchin around the 
waist with her mouth. 

Now although Minchin had seen the Easter 


THE EASTER RABBIT. 


I 2 I 


rabbit she was so glad she was going home 
that she forgot all about the seven little rabbits. 

But she did not forget about the things that 
had been taken from her in the forest, so she 
said to the old man, with tears in her eyes, 
“ What will become of my little chain, my 
veil and my pretty hood ? ” 

“ My ravens shall take them away from the 
wicked creatures and bring them back to you,” 
said the old man, comfortingly. “ Mistress 
Rabbit, do your task faithfully.” 

The old man nodded kindly to Minchin, and 
in a moment she was lifted up and the rabbit 
carried her along over the tops of the trees. 

They went like the wind! In fact they 
went so fast that Minchin became faint, and 
sight and hearing left her. 

When Minchin came to herself again and 
opened her eyes, she was lying in the grass in 
the castle garden, and old Ursula was standing 
before her and scolding her. 

“Child, child, why are you lying asleep in 


122 


TALES FROM WONDERLAND. 


the damp grass? If you catch cold, they will 
say that old Ursula does not take any care at 
all of the child — and I have not taken my eyes 
away from you. 

“ And there is your beautiful gold necklace 
lying in the middle of the path,” continued 
Ursula, “ and there lies your hood, and your 
veil is hanging by a thorn on the rose-bush. 
Get up and come into the house with me ; it 
is growing cold in the garden. Oh dear, what 
a trouble you are to me ! ” 

Then Minchin got up and let her scold on 
without saying a word. 

How lucky it was that old Ursula did not 
know all that had taken place ! That would 
have made a fine commotion. 

































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1305 





library of congress 



